The air was thick with the scent of the grass
And the humidity clung to our skin like a shroud
We were tracing the edge of the old streets
Mapping the shapes of a wandering cloud
There was no warning, no scream in the dark
I thought you were joking, a trick of the light
Waiting for laughter to break through the dread
But the evening went pale
and the world lost its sight
As the pulse in your wrist went as silent as lead
The wind didn\'t stop, and the birds didn\'t hush
The earth was indifferent to what had been torn
But I felt the weight of a terrible rush
The weight of a grief that was newly born.